Blades of Noxus
by TheEyeOfTwilight
Summary: A story chronicling the life of Talon. From his early days on the streets of Noxus, to his time with the Du Couteau's. Rated M for language, violence, and later sexual themes. Heavy Talon x Kat and Talon x Cass.
1. From Humble Beginnings

**Hey guys, it's been a while since I've uploaded anything, so apologies for any poor grammar, or bad word choice. I want to take this story far, and chronicle the entire life of Talon through my own POV. Also, for those wondering, Talon is about 15-16 in this first chapter. This story won't be completely lore accurate in order to keep the story interesting. Hope you enjoy it, if not, tell me what I can do better!**

* * *

Noxus; a place where death surrounds the weak in an everlasting veil. The harsh environment is the grave of many unfortunate enough to call Noxus 'home', and it is that same environment that boasts the ideal that "Only the strong will survive." At its peak, one might mistake Noxus for a much nicer place. Nobles and politicians live lives filled with wealth, ease, and most of all, comfort. But to anyone who lives day by day roaming the cruel streets; they know the truth of the unforgiving city. The narrow pathways and dark alleys reek of lingering death. Rotten food that would be considered inedible by most makes for a daily meal to many of the roaming peasants; murder, thievery, rape, vandalism; that's the norm in Noxus. It's a vicious cesspool of disease and filth, unsuitable for even the basest life forms. If you're unlucky enough to have been birthed in Noxus, you'd better be strong, or you'd better get strong pretty damn quick; because the only thing that awaits the weak in Noxus… is an early grave.

Talon, known by many, feared by even more. The teenager had made a living for himself by committing just about every crime in the book. He was a lucky one, he learned quickly that it was kill or be killed. Murder and darkness enveloped him like a blanket; they kept him safe from his demise. It was just another day for him. Only moments earlier had he slit the throat of a nobleman for his possessions, which he so foolishly refused to hand over. Talon didn't mind though; murder was like family to him at this point, it was the only thing he could rely on at any given situation. It would seem horrifying in any other place that a boy barely in his teens would be so accustomed to death already; but not Noxus… definitely not Noxus. Talon sat on the stone tiled road, and leaned back against an abandoned crate, surely long since ravaged for all its contents. The stress of Talon's weight against the rotten wood caused a loud creak to erupt for the joints of the container. Talon sighed, and closed his eyes; it wasn't often that he would ponder his own life, but there were times when he truly had to question what exactly it was that he was doing with himself. Where would this path riddled with death and deceit take him? And was it too late for him to change courses? Talon let out another elongated breath, and decided to not be bothered with such wishful thinking. He knew well that this was the harshness of reality. He had no dreams, no aspirations, just the constant fight to survive. At least, that's what he thought.

Talon awoke from his slumber, it wasn't ideal, but any place that allowed Talon some sort of comfort would suffice. Regardless, he couldn't exactly complain to anyone, seeing as he was so painfully alone. Perhaps this was the origin of Talon's cold blood, and quick acceptance of the slaughtering of fellow human beings; the fact of the matter was, he had never bonded with anyone. He cared for no one, and the feelings of others towards him were mutual. His coldness radiated all around him, and his reputation assured that very few dared approach him. Talon kept to his usual agenda; he wandered around the streets aimlessly, attempting to find something to occupy himself with. More often than not, that 'something' would involve either murder, theft, or a nice mix of both. What he came upon today though, was much different than anything he had encountered before.

Talon watched from the shadows as a heavily guarded caravan made its way down the street. The sound of wheels screeching under the pressure of the main wagon, and hooves of the horses pulling the caravan meeting the hard stone of the narrow passage was invading Talon's ears. He counted five guards accompanying the caravan, and quickly assessed that there must be something worthwhile on the inside. As was typical of him, Talon was determined to figure out what. The young assassin worked with incredible speed, pulling two daggers from his cloak and hurling them at the two men stationed in front of the caravan. Both daggers made deadly impact; sudden gasps where heard from the other three men as they shot glances down at their dying companions, all the while attempting to ready their weapons. However, these common foot soldiers were no match for the likes of Talon; though they most likely doubled him in age, their experience was probably barely half of the assassin's. Talon worked with unmatched efficiency, as he pulled out a hidden blade from his right sleeve, and went for the throat of the nearest target. The guards were no problem for him, their poor form, and clumsy movements were put to shame by the young man's deadly grace. Talon smirked as he wiped the fresh blood from his daggers onto his already visibly stained sleeve. Just then, the door of the mysterious caravan slowly opened. Talon's watched anxiously as the door slowly revealed more and more of the interior, creaking all the while. What emerged from the caravan was not at all what the assassin had expected. A man, much older than he, with a stern look about him was what stood in front of Talon. He had never seen a noble that had such a look about them. Talon's eyes wandered down to the man's hips, and stayed fixated on the sword that decorated his person. It was becoming more and more obvious to Talon that this was anything but a regular noble. It seemed like hours before the fierce gaze of the two men was finally ended by a deep and powerful voice.

"For what reasons have you killed my men, boy? It's quite inconvenient for me you know." Talon let the words sink in, this man before him showed no signs of fear; as a matter of fact, Talon wasn't sure if he actually had any fear at all.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm here to kill you, and take your possessions, fool." Talon retorted. He tried his best to appear composed, but he had never been faced with an enemy that seemed as truly unfazed as the man that stood before him. The man slowly began to unsheathe his sword; the sound of steel sliding against the leather sheath filled the air. The atmosphere become heavy and Talon became steadily unsure of his situation.

"It has… been a while." That phrase echoed in Talon's mind. He heard the words over and over. He caught a quick glance of his adversary's eyes. They were sharp, determined, and filled with experience. For the first time in a while, Talon felt a foreign emotion; fear. It was too late to back down though; he was already too far in. The hole Talon had dug was deep; deeper than he could bear. If he was going to go down though, he would do it fighting. He gripped his daggers tight, his knuckles turning white as sweat dripped from his face. The young assassin readied himself, and charged at the imposing figure before him. The last thing he remembered was leaping at the man with the intent to penetrate his jugular. Before he even had his wits about him, Talon was on his knees, cold steel pressed firmly against his neck. The assassin felt a small amount of blood trickling down his neck, and running its course down the front of his body. He couldn't remember the last time his own blood had been drawn.

"You have potential…" the man paused, "but you need to be refined." Talon tried to brush off this statement as a meager attempt at an insult, but something about the way the man had said it irked the assassin to no end. The amount of sincerity in his voice tormented Talon. He had spent his entire life on the streets of Noxus honing his skills; he pushed himself so far some days that his body would not even respond to his attempts to move. All of this was in the hopes that he would surpass all who stood before him; and yet here the teen was, on his knees, listening to a noble tell him that he's weak. The longer Talon let this thought linger in his mind, the more his blood boiled, until he couldn't contain his anger anymore.

"And just who the hell are you to tell me that I need refining? You're just some noble. You don't know anything of my hardships, of my life. I've gone through hell to get to where I am, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some pampered asshole tell me that I need refining." Venom spilled off of every word Talon spat, he took sharp breaths, and underneath the cowl that usually hid his face so well, visible anger could be seen clearly. Talon half expected the man to slit his throat right there; however, the figure before him remained calm, as if somewhat understanding the things Talon had said.

"My name is Marcus Du Couteau." Talon had heard the name before. "With my help… you could become so much more." Talon once again began taking in all that had been stated.

"What are you proposing, old man?" Talon questioned.

"Either die here and now… or, come with me back to my manor, and learn what it is to be a true assassin!"


	2. A New World

**Hey guys, finally back with an update. This chapter is a little boring because I wanted to introduce Kat and Cass, and I also wanted to delve a bit deeper into Talon's inner thoughts (plus bring out a little emotion). I promise next chapter will have a lot more action and drama in it, and a fight scene that isn't completely half-assed. Lemon type stuff will be showing up around chapter 4-5, so be sure to follow if that's what you're awaiting. I hope you all enjoy, and be sure to R&R. P.S. sorry for any grammar mistakes, I wrote this chapter at 3 am. **

* * *

Talon sat inside the carriage he had only moments before attempted to ambush. The ride could be described as many things from the young assassin's point of view; 'awkward' came to mind. Talon scanned the interior of his current transport. The walls were coated with a red paint, a trademark of Noxus; the seats were covered with soft cushions that served as a comfortable alternative to the otherwise hard wood below them. As for the floors, they were bare, nothing but the wood they were made with was visible. Talon was extremely reluctant to say anything to his accompaniment, the man who had only recently bested him in a duel of the blades sat opposite of him, and Talon was not in any mood to make small talk. Though the teen had to admit, Marcus was quite the enigmatic figure; though he normally disliked all nobles, Marcus gave off a different atmosphere than most that he had ever met; granted all the nobles that he had previously met were six feet under by now.

The ride itself seemed to drag on for hours in Talon's mind. The assassin never ventured too far from his domain, anywhere he wanted to go was almost always a short walk away. The time spent on the way to Du Couteau manor did however; give Talon ample time to assess is newfound situation. His mind mostly wandered to escape plans. How would he get out of this situation? When was the proper time to escape? What could he obtain from the manor before anyone noticed? It was too much for Talon to have on his mind at the time though, still being sour from his defeat left his mind clouded with misjudgment. He settled the mental dispute with himself, and decided that he would simply wait until he was inside the manor, then he would have all the time he needed to plot his great escape. For now, Talon leaned back and rested his head on the oak wall to his rear.

Talon awoke with a nudge on the shoulder and a deep voice.

"We've arrived, boy." Talon stretched out his arms and scratched his head.

"I'm ecstatic." He replied in a sarcastic tone. Marcus chose to ignore the rather belittling remark. The carriage door swung open creating a loud thud when it made contact with the body. Marcus stepped out first; the man seemed to be in a hurry for some reason, as he quickly made his way inside. A reluctant Talon finally made his way outside after a few minutes of doing one last analysis in his head. 'No turning back' he thought, 'this is it'. All of the assassin's meticulous thinking was cut short when he laid his eyes upon the manor. Talon was almost in awe of it. Compared to any home he had ever known, it was colossal in comparison. The plot of land itself covered hundreds of acres, the grass and foliage looked lively and well kept; Talon breathed in the freshest air he had ever known. He almost felt euphoric in this moment; this was the purest form of Noxus he had ever experienced. The young assassin broke out of his star struck state, and took his first steps toward his 'new life'. It would only be a temporary change for him, but he had vowed to get the absolute most out of it in every way possible.

Talon pulled the handle of one of the two great, oak doors that led into the manor itself. As he took his first steps into the foreign environment, the first thing he felt was a wave of cold air. Not that Talon would ever admit it, but the summers in Noxus were greeted with almost unbearable heat; all things considered, he found this climate to be a superior alternative. Talon meandered aimlessly around the inside of the manor for a bit, to be frank, Talon had no idea what exactly he was supposed to be doing. Marcus had never specified anything to him prior to their arrival. The manor seemed surprisingly empty, but Talon credited that to the not so timely arrival; judging by the color of the sky, Talon assumed that it was close to 6 am. The teen once again began searching for Marcus, the loud click of his boots on the marble floor resonated throughout the house. He eventually came upon a large room, furnished with a massive, wooden table in the center; it was there that he finally encountered another human being. The man appeared to be much older in age than Marcus, his dark gray hair only further attributed to Talon's observation. The old man was dressed in what Talon would call 'fancy noble shit'; a black tailcoat complemented by a white button-up dress shirt, along with black shoes, dress pants, and white gloves.

"A servant…" Talon said under his breath. The teen cleared his throat rather loudly as to attract the attention of the servant before him; however the man seemed more than content to simply ignore Talon, and go about his duties. Talon let out an elongated sigh; he strongly disliked having to converse with others, especially complete strangers. It couldn't be helped however.

"Excuse me." Talon stated. The elderly man looked up to meet eyes with the assassin before going back to folding.

"So you're the one Milord spoke about then? A bit scrawny, I suppose that fits the job though." The reply left Talon a bit confused, and more than a bit pissed off.

"I would advise you shut your mouth, old man, if you value your life" The assassin's strong threats seemed to have no visible effect on the old man, and to Talon's surprise, he began chuckling.

"Ah you young ones, always with the fiery attitudes… so eager to pick a fight. You're just like him, back when he was your age." The servant seemed to be reminiscing about something unknown to Talon. At this point the teen was beginning to lose patience.

"I need to see Marcus immediately… please." Talon forced up the polite words like vomit. Kindness certainly wasn't his forte, but he also figured it would be frowned upon to murder a butler within the first hour he was there. The old man snapped out of his elated moment, and yet again locked eyes with the teen standing across from him.

"Yes, of course. If you would, follow me this way." The old man walked across the large room and stopped by yet another door. It seemed to Talon that there must be at least a hundred or more rooms in this place. The old man lifted his hand up and motioned for Talon to make haste in following him. Lead by his newfound acquaintance, Talon strode along down many long corridors. He took in the surroundings, examining every bit of décor that fashioned the walls. It was amazing to Talon how much of a polar opposite this lifestyle was compared to his. Such material items as art had no place in Talon's life, unless he had stolen them with the intent of selling. Fine furniture made no difference in his life either, seeing as he had never found any use for it. Talon lived an on the go life, he never had time to sit down and enjoy something, or admire paintings. Survival was king, not leisure. The young Noxian became so lost in his train of thought that he nearly ran over the old man that had promptly stopped in front of him.

"I gather Milord will be in this room, enter quietly and try not to disturb him. It really is rare that he gets any down time." With that the old man backtracked down the maze of hallways that had lead them to their destination, surely in a hurry to finish his chores.

With a light push, Talon opened the door and walked into a dimly lit room; the main source of light coming from a lit fireplace in the centre of the back wall. The first thing that caught Talon's eye was Marcus; he was sitting on a long, leather couch accompanied by what appeared to be two young girls. Marcus turned his head back, and smiled at Talon.

"Ah, so you've finally made your way here, come, make yourself at home." Marcus then pointed to a large chair situated directly across from where he and the two girls sat. The phrase 'make yourself at home' actually made Talon feel somewhat uncomfortable, considering the irony in the fact that he planned to abandon his new 'home' as soon as he possibly could. Nevertheless, Talon slowly made his way over to the aforementioned chair, and promptly made himself seated. Marcus took it upon himself to introduce Talon and the two girls to each other.

"Girls, this is the young man I was telling you about. His name is uh… um… his name." Noting the painfully obvious confusion in Marcus's voice, Talon chimed in.

"Talon, my name is Talon."

"Yes, of course, Talon!" Marcus bellowed, as if he had already known Talon's name.

"And these are my two daughters, Talon, Cassiopeia and Katarina." Marcus flashed a smile as he said there names; he was clearly quite proud of the two girls that sat at each of his sides. Talon noted physical features of both the girls. Cassiopeia appeared to be the younger of the two, but only by a year or so. The young girl had shoulder-length blonde hair, and large eyes with light blue irises. She wore a short, blue dress, with a white bow in her hair that complemented her outfit nicely. The assassin then turned his focus to Katarina. She looked much different from her younger sister. Her hair was long, and had a dark red color; her eyes, though not as large as her sister's, had an equally beautiful emerald colour to them. She too wore a dress, although she seemed far less comfortable in the clothing. Her dress was a maroon shade of red that matched almost perfectly with her hair. Overall, Talon considered the two to be very attractive. After living a life in the slums of Noxus though, Talon considered most anything that took daily showers attractive. It then suddenly struck Talon that he must look like an absolute wretch sitting before these two young ladies. Luckily for the assassin, he was never self-conscious when it came to appearance; the only thing that caused him to become flustered was being bested in combat. To Talon's surprise, the younger sister, Cassiopeia sprung up from her seat and curtsied.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She said cheerfully. Katarina did not follow suit, and simply let out a bored sigh. After the greetings were finished, Marcus stood up and yawned.

"I suppose you'll want to get some rest then, Talon?" Marcus inquired.

"Yes, I would." Replied Talon coldly.

"Alright then, Cassiopeia will accompany you to your room." Marcus finished his statement and walked over to his daughters; he crouched down and pulled them both into a hug.

"Goodnight, you two." Talon watched as the three shared something that he had never even thought of, a family moment. It confused Talon really; it looked as if they all relied on each other.' How foolish, bonds only make you weaker; the only one you can rely on is yourself, right?' Talon kept thinking that, but ultimately he had to ask himself; if that's true, than how could he possibly have been bested by Marcus? He couldn't let this pester him any further; Talon settled on going to sleep, and gathering his thoughts in the morning.

"Goodnight, Talon." Talon snapped out of his state of thinking; he caught utterly off guard by such a warm statement being directed at him. It certainly beat the usual death threats, but something about the entire situation irked him. Alas, the assassin let it go, and thanked Marcus. Before he could even take another breath though, his hand was grasped tightly by the bubbly, young blonde.

"Come on, Talon! Let's go!" She shouted, and pulled the teen all the way from the living room to his room which was located on the top floor of Du Couteau manor. Cassiopeia opened the door, and practically shoved Talon inside.

"Here we are!" She proclaimed excitedly.

"T-thanks…" Talon replied awkwardly. Before he could say another word, Cassiopeia latched onto him and wrapped her arms around his waist; Talon was quite a bit taller than her, so she rested her head on his chest. 'WHAT THE HELL?' Talon's thoughts were going crazy. As much as he wanted to go off on her, he just couldn't bring himself to do such a thing.

"What are you doing…?" The teen questioned.

"I'm hugging you, silly. Family members hug each other, right?"

"Family…" Talon was at a loss. 'Has this girl accepted me as one of her own this quickly?'

"Yep, you're a Du Couteau now!" She replied, cheery as ever. Never before in his life had Talon felt like he belonged. He was the outcast, the one people avoided; his life was lived based on the principles of fear and extortion, and yet this girl made him feel warmth in his chest that was void for so very long. Against all instincts he had learned in the lifetime spent on the streets, Talon reluctantly embraced the girl before him. The two finally separated after what seemed like hours to the assassin. Cassiopeia made her way out the door, but not before wishing Talon a goodnight, to which he replied with the same wish she bestowed upon him.

Talon did not sleep on that day. He lay in his new bed, in his new room, in his new home, and pondered all the possibilities of his new life.


	3. Into the Sun

**So, I lied a bit. Last chapter I said that the fight scene would be taking place in this chapter, but as I was writing it, I realized that it would have been far too much to squeeze into one chapter. So with that being said, the fight will obviously be taking place in chapter 4. I can now guarantee that the romantic parts will begin in at the end of chapter 4 as well. That being said, don't expect a full on lemon scene until about chapter 6. Thanks for reading guys, and as always be sure to leave a review telling me what you like, and what I can do better. Enjoy.**

* * *

The feint hiss of water filled the room; streams of hot water hit Talon's head, and made their way down the front of his torso. This was the first time in ages that he was able to take a hot shower. It was a rough night for the teen, after the events of the previous day; his thoughts became more and more erratic as he weighed his options. For the time being, Talon had decided that he would stay in Du Couteau manor. It was certainly a better environment than the slums, but at the same time Talon pledged his allegiance to no one. Talon stepped out of the shower and dried himself off; he then walked out the bathroom door to get dressed. The young assassin instantly regretted his decision to not cover up before exiting the room behind him, as he was met by the wandering eyes of Cassiopeia. Talon nearly broke down the door behind him as he slammed it after retreating to the confines of the bathroom. Cassiopeia giggled as she heard the assassin's ruckus in the other room. A few minutes later, Talon finally came back into his own bedroom; towel firmly wrapped around his waist. He glared at the blonde sitting on his bed.

"Does the word 'privacy' mean anything to you?" Talon tried to act cool in an attempt to cover up his recent actions. A focused look appeared on the girl's face, as if she was actually taking the question into consideration, but she ultimately avoided it altogether.

"Well, daddy asked me to come get you for something; he wouldn't tell me what though." Cass frowned as she spoke the last words. Meanwhile, Talon was already busy laying out his outfit for the day. Marcus had apparently already seen to it that the boy was given a change of attire; a purple cloak lay before him. A variety of metal armors decorated the outfit. Overall, Talon was pleased, the metal was light enough that he could still be as nimble and agile as usual, but the added armor would no doubt provide him with much better protection than simple street rags. In his thorough examination of his attire, Talon almost forgot that Cassiopeia was still on sitting next to him. Talon sighed when he realized that she needed to verbally be asked to leave.

"Do you mind?" Talon asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Not at all, go ahead!" She replied cheerfully.

"You mean you're just going to-"Talon stopped himself mid sentence, deciding that it was utterly pointless to attempt to have an argument with the girl before him. Defeated, Talon picked up his outfit and once again retreated to the bathroom.

When he came out, Talon noticed that Cassiopeia had left his room. 'Great, now I've got to find Marcus on my own' he thought. Though the assassin certainly had many skills which aided him throughout his life, a sense of direction was not among them. Talon promptly exited his quarters; he wanted to find Marcus fast as he didn't take him for the patient type. Du Couteau manor was far livelier than it had been on the previous day, maids and butlers were walking in and out of rooms, hastily making their way from place to place with no signs of resting. Talon admired people like them, although they were far more bound to serving others than Talon considered himself; the assassin had to give credit where it was due, and these people worked their hardest without breaks in order to make a living. Talon descended the spiral staircase that he was dragged up the previous day; he found himself wandering again, but eventually found his way into the kitchen. Talon instantly spotted the same butler that had been his guide on the previous day; however this time, the older man was the one to speak up.

"Ah, young master, I see you've finally awoken. Milord would have words with you. You'll find him in his study a few doors down from the living room… Oh! And do be sure to knock before entering."The old man finished his 'greeting' and began preparing some unknown meal. Talon was at a loss due to the drastic change in the way that he was addressed. 'Young master?' Talon shrugged, and figured Marcus had something to do with it. The assassin began his trek to Marcus's office by attempting to identify some of the paintings he had seen hung on each side of the countless hallways. Slowly, but surely, he was able to retrace his steps, and found himself standing outside a door that was labeled "General's Office". Talon, in his haste, almost made the mistake of waltzing in uninvited, but remembered the old servant's warning; Talon had fought Marcus when he was calm, and one thing he didn't want to see was the General if he was angered. Talon knocked firmly on the door.

"Enter." Marcus called from inside his quarters. Talon turned the knob of the door and quietly made his way in. The General's office smelled of cigars, the air was heavy and humid. Talon could see Marcus sitting in a chair behind a grand desk; papers were scattered all over the base, along with unopened letters and writing utensils. Marcus appeared to be in the middle of writing something by the way his right hand was moving across the desk at a feverish pace.

"Have a seat; I'll be with you in a moment." Marcus said quietly, still not looking up from his letter. Talon sunk down into a cushioned chair opposite the General. He noted that the room was rather bleak, not much décor could be seen. The only thing that visibly stuck out was a singular sword mounted on the wall behind Marcus; judging by the distinguished curved to the overall design of the blade, Talon assumed it to be a sabre. After a few minutes, Marcus dropped his pen and let out an elongated sigh; the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, which he promptly stuck in his mouth and lit. Talon never cared much for smoking; the smell had always irritated him whenever he would wander into one of the many pubs in the slums of Noxus. Marcus gripped the cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, and then blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth to the ceiling above.

"I suppose I've kept you waiting long enough, allow me to get straight to the point. I've got a job that I think would complement your abilities well. A mercenary who goes by the name of Gregory the Red has been spotted near the outskirts of Noxus, just south of the Ironspike Mountains. Usually high command wouldn't bother with a low class criminal such as him, but lately, he's been interfering with trade routes to Zaun. I'd like you to find his base of operations, and put an end to him and his associates by any means necessary. Are we clear?" Marcus waited for Talon's response. A small smirk appeared on the face of the young assassin.

"They won't survive." With that, Talon was already out the door and on his way.

Very few things excited Talon, but this was one of them. When Marcus spoke the name "Gregory the Red", Talon couldn't help but smile. The two men had history together; as a child, Gregory would torment Talon and many other residents of the slums. It had all started on a particularly fiery, summer afternoon; the sun beat down on the peasants with previously unheard of intensity. That was when all progress came to a sudden halt. A group of men marched through the streets of Noxus with no clear objective; Talon was watching from the rooftop of an abandoned house as the men walked through silenced walkways. The mercenaries, lead by a man with bright, red hair made their way to the gallows, situated directly in the middle of the slums. All of the men formed a human circle around the wooden structure as their red-haired leader ascended to the top of the frame. Talon remembered his words perfectly.

"My name is Gregory, but you may call me your highness. I am here to save you all!"

That was where it all began, where the poisonous seed of tyranny began to sprout. Through power and the sheer size of his 'army', the mercenary made everyone acknowledge him as the king of the Noxian underground; he would even make people pay taxes for his so called "protective services". Talon hated the man with a passion, Talon was by no means a moral person, but he had a soft spot for Noxians such as him; those who had nothing, yet continued fighting the everlasting battle of life. Talon even went as far to vow that he would one day end the reign of "The Red Prince" as he was known to the peasants. However, one day Gregory vanished, never to be seen again in Noxus; until now that is. Talon pushed open the double doors of Du Couteau manor, and took his first steps into the outside. The sun peeked over a distant mountain, serving as the easel which painted the early morning sky a deep red. Talon's mind was assaulted with brutal memories of being beaten down by Gregory; he could practically feel the kicks to the stomach, and blows to the head that were seared deep into his mind. The assassin clenched his fist tightly; the sound of contracting leather broke the silence that surrounded him. With a set target, and vengeance fresh in his head, Talon began taking strides that were unmatched by any before him.

_From the sun, the Red Prince came_

_And so under the sun, shall he be slain_


	4. Revenge

**IT'S NOT DEAD! This chapter has burdened me for the past 3 months or so, but after 3 hours of forcing myself to write; it is finally completed. I honestly don't know if I'm completely satisfied with the way it turned out, but you all can be the judge of that. I would really appreciate a review for this chapter to give me some reassurance and whatnot. Enjoy.**

**P.S. I have no idea how to write fighting scenes **

* * *

Talon took his first steps into the slums he called his home. The assassin hadn't returned ever since the General took him in. Many peasants recognized Talon; their puzzled looks confused the teen until he realized that he was dawned in full noble attire. Talon felt anxiety wrenching in the pit of his stomach; he felt the eyes of his former peers burning into his person. It had never occurred to Talon that he would have to face the reaction of all those he had come to know before he began his new life. He wondered what they all thought seeing him like this. 'Do they feel betrayed?' Talon dipped his head and quickened his pace through the plague ridden streets. He couldn't afford to question his resolve, not now; not after all he endured to come this far.

Talon reached the city limits, and headed through the southern gate. Just a few weeks ago, the young assassin would have been surrounded by a large patrol of guards if he dared to show his face in a place as heavily guarded as this. Talon attracted the attention of countless Noxian patrols, some of the guards were visibly angry that they were not permitted to apprehend the assassin. Prior to that moment, Talon had never truly dawned on the fact that he had probably slaughtered countless friends and possibly family members of the grunts that now glared at him with anger hot in their eyes. Thinking was a luxury to one who inhabited the slums, and as a killer Talon found that excessive amounts of thought typically lead to doubt and uncertainty, traits that would only prove to hinder his progress. Keeping the thought of just how many people he had killed in his short lifetime, the young assassin chose to quicken his pace significantly while passing the nearby patrols.

Talon had reached the city limits, his eyes surveyed the vast amounts of land that seemed to expand infinitely. Talon had tried his hand at a few highwayman jobs before; this armed him with a general idea of most of the routes that lead to and from his destination. Ultimately, he decided on taking the most straightforward path. The area around him was eerily quiet, living in a city as inhabited as Noxus; Talon was used to constant noise filling his ears. Along the dirt trailed he follow, only small gusts of wind could be heard; Talon didn't necessarily mind this change of pace, as it served to calm his nerves a small amount. The Noxian began to imagine his reunion with the Prince; more specifically, he imagined how many times his blade would be thrust upon the bastard's chest. A smirk formed on the assassin's face, he hadn't felt bloodlust with such intensity in a long time. Hatred fueled his trek, the leather boots that adorned his feet kicked up loose dirt that was scattered throughout the trail. Talon was able to make quick work of his walk; the assassin now stood at the base of a steep climb. He was certain that whatever danger was to come would more than likely be located atop the structure; a bit of intuition mixed with information he was given by the General. Talon readied himself, an arsenal of steel sat dormant; waiting to be used at his disposal. The Noxian began scaling the small mountain; foot by foot he made his way up slowly but surely. Eventually, Talon was able to gain solid footing near the peak. The assassin peered overtop the stone face that concealed him; there was a large, flat area that extended far past the initial climb. Talon spotted a small patrol of two men who were keeping watch over the area. He chuckled quietly to himself before scaling the last obstacle that stood in his way. Talon was left in direct view of the patrol, who noticed him almost instantly.

"Intruder!" Yelled one of the guards, as both men began charging at Talon with their swords drawn. Talon himself merely walked at a slow pace towards the approaching foes, grabbing three shurikens that previously rested on his back. Once the two guards were within his range, Talon gripped his blades and threw them effortlessly; regardless of Talon's lack of force, the shurikens ripped through the air at a high velocity. The eyes of the two would be attackers widened at the sight of airborne blades en route to their sternums. Both men made an attempt to dodge the flying steel, but the speed was simply too much; cries of pain and the sound of bones being carved away filled the crisp, morning air. Talon had almost forgotten the thrill of murder; the assassin wiped blood that had spattered onto his face away with his sleeve. With fresh corpses now littering the otherwise serene ground, Talon continued to travel deeper into enemy territory. The area was not heavily guarded, which surprised Talon as well as making him more than a bit suspicious; back when Talon was a child, Gregory had amassed a rather large following. As Talon ventured deeper into what was supposed to be 'dangerous territory', the assassin began to question whether or not the Red Prince himself was even in the area to begin with. Though hatred could not begin to describe his feelings towards the man, Talon did not take Gregory for a fool; he must have known that the High Command would eventually send someone to deal with him.

"What a waste of time." Talon muttered. He would not give up on his hunt so easily though, he kept moving forward until he came upon a path that cut through heavy amounts of dense foliage. It was a trap, Talon knew this; at the same time he also knew that the path in front of him was his only chance at revenge. Before any form of reluctance could influence his decision, the Noxian took his first steps onto the trail. The assassin felt a chill run down his spine as he traveled further into the forest-like area; he was completely surrounded; though he could not see anyone, his instincts sensed their presence all around him. Armed men began to slowly emerge from seemingly every direction, but to Talon it seemed as if only one man was present before him. In all the years that followed in his absence, Gregory had not changed in appearance. Talon was met with the very same piercing eyes that looked down upon him so many times before; the air was thick with tension as Talon remained silent.

"You've come into a dangerous place, little assassin; and you shall not be walking out." Gregory said pompously. Talon clenched his fist, just hearing the cockiness spewing from the "prince's" mouth enraged him to no end. The assassin pulled back his hood before speaking.

"I have patiently waited for this day to come ever since I was a child. No amount of men will stop my blade from reaching your heart." Talon responded in a serious tone. Gregory raised an eyebrow in suspicion, and then began chuckling.

"So it is you!" Gregory exclaimed. "You've went from a rat to a dog, congratulations are in order."

Talon took in a deep breath, and formed his plan of attack. Gregory's psychological games would not hinder the assassin. He knew that he would have to take out the pawns before dethroning the king; with this in mind Talon prepared to unveil his latest technique. Though not yet mastered, the assassin was confident in his ability to execute it right; he would need to or else death was imminent.

"I have no use for this one; make sure his death is painful." Gregory ordered. The soldiers surrounding Talon readied their weapons; sounds of swords being unsheathed and spears being lifted erupted throughout the forest. Talon waited patiently for his time to strike; at the first sign of enemy movement, the assassin made his move. In a moment's notice, a barrage of steel occupied the area where Talon previously stood; a circular formation of shurikens shot out towards the mass of men, wails of agony echoed throughout the woods as the blades tore into their victims. The bloodied weapons reconvened with their master as he appeared seemingly out of thin air. Only two remained, Talon's furious glare was matched by Gregory's calm gaze.

"So this is the power you have gained?" Gregory questioned. Talon smirked at the remark; it was satisfying to know that someone he hated so much had just acknowledged him in a positive manner.

"Let us begin." Gregory said. No more words were needed; Talon rushed his enemy in hopes of landing a quick and decisive strike. To the assassin's surprise however, Gregory's speed outclassed his; by the time Talon reached his destination, the Red Prince had already evaded. The broadsword Gregory wielded was now unleashed; its mass was swung downwards towards Talon's neck. The assassin raised his arm, letting the blade attached to it absorb the shock; the sound of blade hitting blade invaded the ears of both parties. Talon was almost knocked down by the force of the impact, but he managed to keep his footing; the assassin rolled backwards to regain his senses. He knew that if he was to defeat Gregory, it would have to be by an unexpected strike. In the moments that Talon took to fall back, Gregory began to take the offense; using his superior speed to execute many attacks, resulting in multiple close calls for Talon. The assassin had to do something quickly. The Prince's blade began its descent towards Talon, leaving no time to evade. Streams of red flew through the air; Gregory's attack had landed, but not in the way he would ever expect it to. Talon's bloodied hand gripped the tainted steel tightly; sanguine streams ran down the Noxian's arm. Talon had made his opening by immobilizing his foe; in a blink Talon appeared behind his target. As if throwing a punch, Talon thrust his blade towards Gregory's upper back. The shocked tyrant glanced down to see steel protruding from his chest. Talon ripped his blade out of his defeated enemy; adrenaline raced throughout his body as he watched his revenge come to fruition in the form of a lifeless body hitting the cold ground. It was almost too good to be true, until the reality of the situation came to light.

Talon winced in pain, but not from the cut on his hand. Talon's eyes ventured downwards, and came upon a small dagger sticking out of his thigh. Only unable to feel the pain for a moment, Talon quickly realized that Gregory had one last trick up his sleeve. Blood gushed from the wound as the assassin removed the dagger from his body; the femoral artery had been struck, and was leaking vital fluids. Beads of sweat adorned Talon's face as he forced himself to avoid going into shock. Never before in his life had the boy been stabbed before; cuts were one thing, but this was a different story. Talon limped over to the lifeless corpse of his most recent victim, and began tearing pieces off of his cloth cloak. He hurriedly wrapped the fabric around his wound, and tied it into a tight knot. It was a race against time for the Noxian, as he knew he would have to seek aid quickly or face certain death.

Following the same paths that lead him to the battleground, Talon descended the structure he had previously scaled. His injury made the climb down agonizingly difficult, as pain surged through his body. Before too long, Noxus was visible in the distance, serving as an invitation for Talon to quicken his pace as much as his body would allow. The assassin limped along the dirt road; droplets of blood marking the direction from which he had came. After what seemed like ages, the boy reached his homeland; yet the struggle was not yet finished, Du Couteau manor was still a good distance away. Passersby eyed the assassin as he made his way through the streets; Talon however disregarded the citizens of Noxus in his haste. Each step upped the pain that much more; a sustained burning sensation made walking equivalent to torture. Talon almost wished that he had bled out in the mountains, but he would not be broken so easily; stride after stride, Talon finally found himself facing a familiar sight. The assassin forced open the massive door to the manor with what little strength remained in his being, before collapsing on the marble floor. Butlers and maids alike rushed to the aid of the fallen Noxian, making sure he had not perished from the wound already. Talon's motionless body was hoisted up by the old butler that had aided him in his first days at the manor. Talon was carried to his room and laid down on his bed. The assassin was losing consciousness quickly, and he could barely make out the vague things he saw. The only thing he was certain about was that he saw the General enter his room with Cassiopeia clinging tightly to his tailcoat.

Cassiopeia slept outside Talon's room that night. The young girl had heard every scream and cry of pain that escaped his mouth; she was just thankful that she didn't have to witness what was happening inside the room. When morning came, the blonde nervously entered Talon's room to find him sitting up in his bed, awake. Talon turned his attention to the girl who came through the doorway; noting how quiet she was in comparison to her usual attitude. Confused about how to start the conversation, it was a while before Cassiopeia spoke up.

"Um, good morning, Talon." She said softly.

"Morning…" Talon replied quietly.

"Are you feeling alright, or…?"

"I'm fine, just exhausted." Talon replied sincerely. The blonde slowly made her way to Talon's bedside, and sat on the side of the bed.

"I was really worried about you…" Cassiopeia announced, unbeknownst to Talon, she was on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry to have worried you, Cass. I made a foolish mistake." It took a lot for Talon to admit his fault. If it had been anyone other than Cassiopeia, he wouldn't have felt comfortable saying those words. Cass turned to face Talon, and it was then that he noticed her eyes were filled with tears.

"If something had happened to you I-I don't know what…" Unable to finish the rest of her words, Cassiopeia buried her face in Talon's chest. The blonde's tears dampened the white shirt he was wearing. After a few minutes, Talon lifted up the girl's face with the intent to say some reassuring words; however he ended up merely staring into her deep, blue eyes. Even though they were clouded with tears, Talon could not help but feel lost in her stare. Neither teen exchanged words, both exchanging looks for an extended period of time. Ever so slightly, Cassiopeia inched herself closer to Talon before they were nearly face to face. Unsure of what was happening, Talon could feel his heart pounding in his chest; he was reluctant to make a move, opting for Cassiopeia to do so. The blonde looked into the eyes of the flustered boy that she was now straddling, and with a sudden burst of confidence, she pushed her lips onto his. Though both felt the mutual feeling of embarrassment, their kiss lasted for as long their breath could be held. Cassiopeia pulled away with a red tint now apparent on her face. Talon was almost in disbelief that the scenario ever really happened, or if it was merely a dream. The pain that he felt when Cass accidentally leaned on his wound reassured him that this was indeed reality. It wasn't long before the blonde had fallen asleep on Talon's body. This new life was becoming more confusing by the day; uncertainty once again plagued the mind of Talon. This day would be yet another spent pondering the misadventures of Du Couteau manor.


End file.
